The trees on the side of the road zipped by the headlights as the speedometer crept past seventy miles an hour. Subconsciously he depressed the accelerator. Tears welled up as he relived the moment he walked in on Karen, recalling every little detail – how could she have done this to me? The thought bounced around his mind, reverberating, growing in intensity. He didn’t want to admit that he had lived a lie for the past eight years. She had been stepping out all along and covering it up with his insecurities – and he had known, he had just refused to believe it. The road suddenly took a sharp turn to the right.
He cut the wheel hard, and the car started to slide. For the first time in too long he glanced down at the speedometer. Oh my God! The tires skidded on the loose dirt. The car shot off the edge of the road, up a slight embankment and went airborne. He clutched the wheel with both hands and prepared for the impact.
11:10 pm Boston, Massachusetts
Pell woke up slowly. He lay in the dimly lit room listening to the machines and let his gaze wander before looking down at the wires and tubes that sprung from his chest. He was in bad shape.
A nurse opened the door to check on him. This was a different one. Less friendly looking. She took her time filling in the information on his chart before saying, “An FBI agent has been given permission to speak to you again. He’s been outside your room the whole time.”
Pell moaned.
“If you don’t think you’re up for it just say so.”
He wanted to put it off but they would just hound him until he spoke with them.
“Shall I let him in?” She asked.
“I suppose so,” Pell replied.
The nurse went to the door and motioned Agent Strange over. “I’ve been given strict orders, Agent Strange. If anything like what happened here earlier today happens again, I’m to call security and have you removed from the room. Forcibly if necessary. Do you understand?”
“Sure thing, Honey,” Steve said. “I’m just going to ask him a few questions, that’s all.”
She looked back over to Pell. “I’ll be at the nurses’ station. Push your call button if you need me.”
Steve walked in and pulled up a chair next to the head of the bed. “Well, Pell, you’re in a mess.”
Pell stared back blankly.
Steve touched Pell’s arm as he said, “Carl wants me to call him as soon as you come around.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“I wanted to talk to you alone first.”
“About what?”
“About Carl. This whole thing. He’s on some kind of vendetta against you.”
“You figure that out yourself or did someone help you?”
“I also know what really happened with that cop up in New Hampshire. He’s not dead, by the way.”
“Really?”
“He’ll be fine after a little rehab.”
“Thank God,” Pell muttered.
Steve continued, “At your request, Carl’s going to get Arthur Kent involved.”
He could remember infuriating Carl but the details of the conversation escaped him. The heavy medication then and now clouded his memory.
“He wants to know what Maurice Andleman told you. It doesn’t look like the old guy’s going to make it. Personal opinion, Sarah Burns exists, and she’s probably done exactly what you said. We need to find her, and you’re probably the only one who can give us any information.”
Pell nodded. He had to be careful. Steve Strange sounded so sincere, friendly. They could have given him something to make him talk. Steve could have easily injected any of the many available truth serums into one of his IV lines while Pell slept and was now working him. After all, this was the Bureau – justice at any cost.
“You don’t have to tell me anything. I’ll find out once you talk to Arthur. There is one thing, though, that I think might help you out.” A sinister grin spread across his face, and he leaned closer. “I don’t like Carl. As a matter of fact, I hate the son of a bitch.”
“Welcome to the club.”
“Let me tell you a little something about our beloved SAC that you might find useful when you and Arthur talk.”
He leaned down so that his lips brushed Pell’s eager ear and started to talk in a whisper, “I know for a fact that Carl isn’t the Mr. Clean everyone thinks he is. Six weeks ago I noticed, or really, stopped to think about some things – a quirky schedule, unexplained absences, real expensive tastes – definitely living beyond his Bureau means. He’s moody by nature but it was getting worse. He kept jumping all over my shit, not as bad as what he does to you but damn close and I got sick of it. So I did a little digging.”
“A little?”
“Okay, a lot,” Steve said. “Carl’s no dummy. He’s hid it well but not well enough.”
“Carl’s dirty?” Pell said. The heart monitor unit up-tempoed it’s lethargic rhythm. “What’s he into?”
“I’m not entirely sure but whatever it is, it’s serious. It could just be opportunistic greed on his part but that doesn’t feel right. I think it’s probably more like someone has something on Carl and is blackmailing him. Either that or they managed to scare him.” Steve paused and glanced out into the corridor. “There’s definitely others involved but I haven’t worked out who all is part of this yet.”
“But what’s he doing?” Pell asked.
“It looks like Carl has been involved in a scheme to steal and sell military equipment.”
“Military equipment?” Pell said. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t know if it makes sense or not but he is into it up to his eyeballs.”
“So what do you know?”
“They’re moving lots of arms. Some of it’s Viet Nam era crap but some of it’s not. I’m not quite sure what Carl’s exact role is yet. Maybe it’s just turning a blind eye or maybe it’s more of an active role. All I do know is that he’s involved. The prick’s arming the enemy and making money hand over fist.”
“That mother fucker,” Pell said. “And he’s always so righteous.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Pell shook his head. “Jesus Christ, why haven’t you done anything with this?”
“I just made the final connections a couple of days ago and then this Sarah Burns thing came up. I haven’t had time to pull it all together yet.”
“How long have you been with the Bureau?”
“Five years.”
“All here?”
“Yes, sir. Working for our buddy Moscovitz.”
“So gut feel, is it real? Do you have him?”
“Gut feel, you bet. But you and I know what the Bureau thinks about gut feels.”
“Worthless.”
Agent Strange smiled. “Yep, absolutely worthless.”
“So you got something better?”
“Much better.”
“Like what?”
“Proof.”
“Solid?”
“Oh yeah,” Steve said. “It’s amazing the data we in the Bureau have access to and if you’ve got some decent computer skills and a college roommate who works for the NSA, all of a sudden the ephemeral details of a carefully hidden life become clear, if you know what I mean.”
Pell stared at the young agent for a long moment. He had twenty years of dealing with people who were lying, some of them good at it, others not so much but he trusted his instincts and this kid was very believable.
“So what? Why are you telling me this?”
“Well, if you’re going to get Arthur Kent here…”
Pell smiled. “Why me? Why not take it to Arthur and make a name yourself?”